


Novaturient

by SinpaiCasanova



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Afterlife, Angels, Car Accidents, Character Death, Crying, Five Stages of Grief, Grief/Mourning, Heaven, Heavy "What Dreams May Come" vibes, Heavy Angst, Hell, Hospitalization, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 23:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14067687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinpaiCasanova/pseuds/SinpaiCasanova
Summary: Novaturient-(adj.)Desiring or seeking powerful change in one's life, behavior, or situation.





	1. Chapter 1

Winter, 2017. The snow is lightly falling, blanketing the cold ground in fluffy pillows of white. My breath billows in front of my lips, pale and chilled as the wind whips against my face. It's a deep chill that settles in your bones, one that makes you appreciate the simple things in life, like hot tea and a warm hand to hold. Thankfully, I have both. Seàn's hand is wrapped around mine, covered in the warm fabric of a mitten as we walked through the park. Steaming hot tea is lightly gripped in our hands, warming the soul with each sip. It's one of our favorite things to do, spending time in comfortable silence as we wander through the snow covered path. Seàn always loved to see the lights that decorated the trees, bright multicolored strands that wrapped around the snow covered branches inside the park. They're beautiful, but not as beautiful as he is. I always joked that he could easily pass for an angel, with his porcelain skin and bright blue eyes. He's truly something to be adored, a heavenly depiction of the perfect lover. His hand tightens around mine as he excitedly pulls on my arm to get my attention.  
"Mark! Look, it's an aurora!" His pink lips were turned up in a smile that lit up his entire face. I stopped to admire him before turning to look at the subtle colors dancing in the atmosphere. Shades of green and pink were mingling together against the night sky. Tonight was perfect, a simple end to a ordinary day. But that's how we liked to live, just enjoying the little things that life brings, sharing serene moments with each other. It was one of the things that drew me to him when we first met. He was always so positive and humble, giving off a child like innocence that I envied. He smiled at me, setting his cup of tea down on the bench before releasing my hand. He took off running, diving into the snow and landing on his back.   
"What are you doing, ya goof?" I chuckled, walking up to see him moving his arms and legs against the ground.  
"Making a snow angel! What does it look like I'm doing?" He sat up, grabbing a handful of snow before chucking it at my head. I just missed it, but in the process I managed to spill my tea on my jacket. He giggled, covering his mouth with his hands as I shot him a perturbed look.   
"You're gonna pay for that Seàn." I teased, setting my cup down next to his. He grinned, rising to his feet before taking off down the path. I chased after him, laughing at how childish we were acting. He tripped over his feet, sending him crashing into the snow face first. My smile fell as I knelt down to roll him over. His face was caked in icy snow, making him appear ghostly white.  
"Are you alright babe?" I asked, scanning over him for any visible injuries. He grabbed my jacket, pulling me down in the snow with him. His cold lips met mine, joining together in a sweet expression of love. I felt my heart skip a beat, and for a moment I remembered all the other times his kisses were able to do that to me. It didn't matter that we had been together for seven years, that we were married and had been for atleast a year. He was still able to make my heart dance in my chest from the simplest of touches. He pulled away, reaching for something next to me before smashing a snow ball in my face. I was blinded for a moment, only able to feel his body scramble off of the ground before I was able to wipe the ice from my eyes. Seàn was running again, but this time he wasn't paying attention to what was in front of him. The park was next to a main road, one that always had traffic on it. I stood up, yelling for him to come back. He slowed down, stopping on the curb where the road meets the snow covered grass. I breathed a sigh of relief, picking up my pace as he looked up at the Christmas lights that decorated the nearby tree. I didn't even see it coming, all I heard was the sound of tires skidding against the slick pavement, then the ear piercing sound of metal wrapping around a tree. My eyes frantically searched around the wreak for Seàn, he was standing right there, but now I couldn't find him. The next thing I know, gawkers and random people from cars that stopped to help were screaming. I ran over towards the car, hoping and praying that he was ok and was just trying to help whomever was in the wreak. But the closer I got, the more I could see the crimson snow pooling underneath the vehicle. My heart sank, laying behind one of the tires was a beanie. My fingers curled around the gray beanie, recognizing it to be the same one Seàn was wearing. By that time an ambulance had arrived, police were taping off the area, and a tow truck was standing by to pull the totaled car away from the damaged tree trunk.  
"Seàn?!" I called out, praying I would hear his voice answer me. But it never did. I was held back as a white sheet was draped over a lifeless frame. The body pinned underneath the mangled car in a way that guaranteed that person wasn't walking away from this. I was numb, frozen in this moment for what seemed like an eternity. I could hear myself wailing, screaming and begging for God to bring him back. I was never a religious man, but in that moment I was praying to a God that I didn't even believe in. My mind couldn't comprehend what was happening, all I knew was I could hear myself crying and trying to pry myself away from the hands that were keeping me away from him.  
"I just wanna be with him! Why won't you let me see him?!" I heard myself scream, the muffled reply from the officers was falling on deaf ears. I didn't care what they had to say, Seàn needed me, and I couldn't get to him, even though I desperately tried. The last thing I remembered before being placed in the back of an ambulance, was the sheet covering the body blowing upward, letting me see a pair of glassy blue eyes staring back at me.


	2. Chapter 2

"Where is he? Where's Seàn?" My voice was so light the wind could carry it away, but I'm surprised I even had a voice at all. The nurse checking my vitals didn't answer me, she continued checking my pulse with her fingertips, refusing to give me eye contact. I shouldn't be here, I had to see if he was ok.  She removed her fingers from my wrist, writing down my pulse on the patient chart next to her.  
"Please, I just want to know how he is. What room is he in?" I asked again, my body feeling completely numb to anything I was supposed to be feeling. I could see my dull reflection in the lenses of her thick glasses. I looked like a zombie, with hooded bloodshot eyes, paler skin than normal, and disheveled hair. Seàn's beanie was still clutched tightly in my hand, the gray fabric stained crimson in certain places.  
"Mr.Fischbach the doctor will be in shortly to discuss some things with you. Now I need you to promise me that no matter what you hear, you'll stay calm."  
She had a cautious look in her eyes, telling me something was wrong. I forced myself to respond, confused as to why I would need to stay calm.  
"Why do I need to promise you that? I'm fine, it's Seàn that I'm worried about."  
She sighed, pushing up her thick rimmed glasses as she gathered up her medical supplies.  
"That's what he's going to discuss. Now, your vitals are stable and it doesn't appear that you have any injuries. But just stay put and try to rest, I don't need to come back in here and find you on the floor."

"Yes ma'am." I sounded almost robotic, my gaze floating down to the floor to stare at nothing. She left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts for what felt like hours. A soft knock on my door snapped me back to attention, my eyes trailing upward to see a thin man with blonde hair. He was tall, dressed in sea foam green scrubs that were tucked in.

"Mr.Fischbach?" A smooth voice traveled into the room, surrounding my head like a puff of smoke.  
"Yes." I unemotionally answered, he gave me a small smile before walking in and shutting the door behind him. He sat in the plastic chair next to my hospital bed, pulling out an orange pill bottle that had something metal inside it.  
"I'm Dr.Benson, the attending physician at Mercy Hospital. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. How's Seàn? Can I see him?" Seàn was all I cared about, I hated all these rhetorical questions I couldn't give two shits about. He furrowed his brows, letting out a long sigh as he rolled the pill bottle in his hand.

"Mr.Fischbach..your husband is.." He cut himself off, searching for the right words to say. I was getting impatient, Seàn hated hospitals and I knew he'd be scared. Why won't they just spit it out?!

"He's what? Is he hurt? What's wrong with him?" I felt a little more emotion ring through my voice, the thought of Seàn in pain was almost too much to handle. He pursed his lips, gray eyes meeting mine.

"I need you to really listen to what I'm about to say to you. I want you to take a deep breath and remain calm."

"Why does everyone keep telling me that!? What happened to him?!" I finally snapped, lashing out a bit from this cryptic bullshit. His eyes narrowed, and out of his mouth came the the words I didn't want to hear.

"Your husband sustained a number of fatal injuries to his head and chest, he didn't survive the accident, he died at the scene."  
My heart was beating, that I was sure of, but the sharp edge those words held was enough to kill me right then and there.  
"Wha-" My voice broke, failing to produce anymore sound as my throat constricted. I felt like I wanted to vomit, like the amount of emotional pain I was currently experiencing was strong enough to effect me physically. Tears were falling, saturating my clothing as they fell like rain. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, then a round object placed in my hand. I looked down, seeing the pill bottle resting against my sweaty palm.

"I know it's difficult to accept, but the coroner managed to retrieve some of the jewelry he was wearing. We thought you might want it back."  
I uncapped the bottle sliding the silver ring and necklace out into my hand. Seàn's wedding ring was there, along with the puzzle piece necklace I gave him one year for our anniversary. It had my named etched on it, next to a heart. I had one similar to his, only with his name in it. Dr.Benson spoke again, but his voice sounded like he was across the hall.  
"There are a few resources we are willing to extend to you that are covered by your insurance, I highly recommend grief counseling. This isn't something you should go through alone, do you have any family you can contact?"

"N-no..Seàn w-was all I h-had." And that was the sad truth, my dad died a few years ago, my brother and mother disowned me when I came out as a gay man. Seàn was all I had in this world, we were even planning on adopting in the coming years. Now I have nothing to hold on to.

"I see..Mr.Fischbach I know this is hard, I lost my own wife to cancer last year. Time doesn't make the pain magically disappear, it just makes it a bit easier to live without them. You never stop missing them, but the days get a little easier to manage if you take them one minute at a time. Every minute you survive this loss, is another minute added to your recovery. You're free to go, here's your discharge paperwork. I recommend you contact a funeral home and begin making arrangements."

I nodded my heavy head, my own emotions feeling like they would suffocate me at any moment. Dr.Benson shook my hand, placing a business card for a funeral home on my bed before he left. 


	3. Chapter 3

With the funeral arrangements taken care of, I was finally on my way back to our home. I mean, my home. Unfortunately the damage Seàn sustained in the accident made it nearly impossible to have an open casket. But I was ok with that, I didn't want to remember him as a makeup covered latex lookalike. I remembered my father's funeral, and how much I hated the smell. That chemical and floral smell that saturated everything it touched. I can almost smell it now, the familiar odor permeating the interior of the cab I was currently sitting in. As the vehicle approached the curb, the white pickett fence that surrounded our two story home came into view. Seàn was a sucker for things like that, he always wanted the typical American home, two kids and a dog. I tried my best to give him the things he desired, because to see him happy was my hearts desire. The cab came to a stop outside the house, I could already see Chica and Trico peeking through the curtains in the living room. I didn't want to go in there, Seàn was the reason this house felt like a home. Without him here, it was just concrete and siding. I shuffled my way up to the door, fumbling with my keys as the dogs whined and scratched at the door. As soon as I opened it, I was assaulted with puppy paws and wet tongues. Chica was my dog, a golden retriever Seàn and I rescued from an animal shelter shortly after getting together. Trico was Seàn's, a tiny jack russel terrier he received as a wedding gift from me. I know I should have been happy to see them, but I just felt so empty. I managed to herd the dogs inside the house as I closed the door. Part of me wanted to call out to him, expecting to hear him in the kitchen or singing while he painted in the recreation room.   
"Baby, I'm home.." I called out, feeling my chest tense up when I didn't hear a response. I sighed, wiping away a few tears that escaped my eyes. As I walked further into the house, the dogs began acting weird. Chica had the hair on the back of her neck standing up while Trico whined and scratched at the door to the rec room. 

"He's not here guys..daddy's somewhere better than this place." I tried to convince myself while talking to the dogs. The rec room was closed up, just the way Seàn left it since the last time he used it. I grasped the knob, twisting it with apprehension as the door slowly swung open. There was no one there, just his art supplies and his record collection he listened to while he worked. But that didn't stop the dogs from rushing into the room, tails wagging happily like their dad was there.  
"Come on, we shouldn't be in here." I reached out, grabbing their collars and leading them out of the room. As I went to shut the door, a loud sound erupted from the record player. My heart almost stopped when I recognized the song that was playing. It was the song that brought us together, the one that started the conversation that eventually lead to me asking him out for coffee. It was summer, and oddly enough we lived in the same apartment building for months before we actually ran into each other. I was in the elevator, my headphones blaring The Smith's when he walked in. He stood beside me, grinning as he listened to the song that was playing through my headphones. He looked so adorable, dressed in a bright blue v-neck that made his gorgeous eyes pop and skinny jeans that hugged his curves just right. I was trying not to stare, building up the courage to say something when I saw his lips moving. He was pointing towards my headphones, smiling brightly as he talked.   
I pulled them off, letting the music continue to play as I smiled at him.  
"I love The Smith's, they're one of my favorite bands." His voice was sweet and laced in a heavenly Irish accent. I was tripping over my words trying not to make myself sound like an idiot.   
"Y-yeah, they're great. I'm Mark by the way."  
I held out my hand, sighing internally when he wrapped his fingers around mine, shaking my hand in a friendly way. He smiled, blushing at the look I was giving him. I could tell right then that this man was going to be mine, I was sure of it.  
"Seàn, but everyone calls me Jack."  
That moment was what sealed our fate as lovers, spending the next seven years together until this moment I was in now. My jaw hung open as the song played, for a moment I thought one of the dogs bumped the record player or something but it was so high up that it was impossible for that to happen.  
"Baby? Is that you?" I asked, feeling a cold chill run up my spine. There was a noticeable change in the temperature around me, and it seemed to move like It was circling me. My breath hitched as the record player started skipping, replaying the same lyric over and over again.  
"To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die."  
I was frozen to the spot, my vision blurred with tears as I felt his presence around me. Even the dogs were barking, laying down by my feet with their ears pinned back.   
"Seàn? Am I losing my mind or is this you?"  
I asked, only to be met with silence. The record player abruptly stopped, as well as the temperature in the room returning to normal. I was panting, frantically wiping away tears from my eyes as I ran towards the kitchen. The dogs were hot on my heels, whining and crying as I reached for the bottle of whiskey I kept in the cupboard. I twisted off the cap, tipping the bottle back as soon as it touched my lips. I eventually drank so much that I lost my balance and slid down to the kitchen floor. My sight was a disorienting mess as it blurred and doubled. I was always an emotional drunk, so it came as no surprise when I began sobbing, curled up in a ball on the floor. I must have cried myself to sleep, because the next thing I knew, my eyes are closing and I'm breathing heavily. But before I fell asleep, I could've sworn I heard Seàn's voice whispering next to my ear.

"Oh my sweet baby, I'm still here."


	4. Chapter 4

This had to be a dream, in fact I was sure of it. I don't remember getting up from the kitchen floor to lay in my bed, and I know that the warm body pressed against my side isn't really there. But that still didn't stop me from curling into his fragile frame and wrapping my arms around him. Seàn giggled, nuzzling his face into my neck as he draped his pale leg across my waist. This feeling was too good to be true, a cruel reminder that happy moments such as this would never happen again. But despite the pain in my chest, I melted into his touch. It didn't matter that he was just an illusion my own mind conjured up from the memories I had of him, or that as soon as I woke up he would be gone. I had him now, for what little time that was.  
"You're up early." Seàn murmered against my skin, running his fingertips up and down my arm. The sensation caused me to shiver, and I cursed my brain for making this so damn realistic. The simple frase is something I've heard him say thousands of times before, as I was often up with the sun, unable to sleep for more than a few hours. Seàn would beg me to stay in bed with him, wrapping his arms around me like a boa constrictor to keep me close to his warm body. I would groan and protest, but I secretly adored those moments. I never actually told him how much those little things he did affected me. Perhaps this is why I'm dreaming about them, some sort of desperate attempt to satisfy my guilty conscious maybe?   
"What are you thinking about baby?" His sweet voice said in between the soft kisses he was placing on my neck. Even in my dreams I couldn't stop myself from breaking down. Tears streamed down my cheeks, falling onto his skin as he continued to kiss me. But as soon as he felt them he stopped, glancing up with concerned eyes that showed how much he cared.  
"I was thinking about how much I miss you." I choked out, cupping his face in my hands just so I could feel him. He gave me a sad smile, leaning forward to kiss my quivering lips.  
"I'm right here baby." Those words felt like a knife in my chest, and each kiss he placed on my lips twisted the knife until only a gaping hole remained where my heart used to be.  
"Listen.." Seàn whispered against my lips, his blue eyes hidden behind his eyelids. I opened my mouth to question him, but the sound of wings flapping in the distance caught my attention. It didn't sound like a bird's wings, they sounded like they belonged to something much bigger.  
"I'm still here, watching over you." He placed another kiss on my lips, but I could taste the sorrow and longing on his tongue.  
This didn't make any sense to me, why was he doing this? Why was he tormenting me? My mind became overwhelmed, and I knew I was about to wake up. He pulled away, and that's when I saw the pair of wings jutting from his shoulder blades. But they weren't the traditional wings you would normally associate with an angel, they were made of what looked like light, bright multicolored strands of light that filled the room in it's brilliance.   
"Look for me, listen for my voice. I'm still here." His words stuck in my mind, but before I could say anything else my eyes snapped open. The beige tile of my kitchen floor was blocking my vision, and the dull ache in the front of my skull told me I was awake and hung over. I had him, and I lost him again. The memory of that dream was imprinted in my mind, each time I closed my eyes I could see him, sitting in front of me with those breathtaking wings made of light. I groaned, fighting back the contents of my stomach as I sat up against the cabinets. Chica and Trico were laying next to me, staring at me with big sad eyes. I forced a smile, reaching out my hand to pet them. Chica took that as an ok to crawl into my lap, lifting up her head to lick my cheek. It was like she knew I was dying inside and was trying to comfort me the only way she knew how. I wrapped my arms around her, softly stroking her fur as I cried. I missed him so much, and the dream only made things worse. It's only been sixteen hours since he died, and already I feel lost and hopeless. I just wanted to be with him, being his loving husband was what I was made to do. Now that he's gone, I have no purpose, no plan for my life. I didn't see any way out of this void, this black hole of suffering and longing that felt like it would never end. Trico barked, shifting my eyes up to see what he was looking at. He was sitting in front of the refrigerator, barking at the little word magnets Seàn and I used to write silly messages for the other to find. I gently pushed Chica off of my lap, climbing to my feet as I made my way over to the fridge. I scanned the magnets, looking for anything that I might have missed. But right in front of me was a message I wouldn't have understood until I had that dream.

I

Watch

Over

You


	5. Chapter 5

I pulled myself together long enough to shower and brush my teeth, though any additional grooming was out of the question. I knew I looked like shit, with my puffy bloodshot eyes and paling complexion. I was truly a sight to behold, but then again who did I have to impress? I was most likely going to die alone, even though Seàn told me he would want me to find someone new if something were to happen to him. I agreed just for the sake of avoiding an argument, but deep down I knew I'd never want anyone else but him. So far it's been twenty-four hours since he died, and I haven't had the guts to call his mother. She still lives in Ireland, and at the time of the accident they weren't exactly on good terms. She still hasn't accepted the fact that we had gotten married, and held that against him in some pathetic grudge. It tore him apart when she cut contact with him, they were always so close when he was little. It was like she was his hero. But dispite this stupid grudge, she still needed to know that her son was dead and the details of his funeral should she choose to come. I picked up my phone, tapping on her contact info and swiping the 'call' option. It rang a few times before an Irish accent rang through the other line. She didn't say much, only that she wouldn't be attending the funeral due to financial constraints. Honestly the news of her son's death wasn't all that alarming to her, but then again that could just be shock setting in. The entire conversation lasted a total of two minutes before she abruptly hung up, her voice sounding distant and faint before the call ended. I knew Seàn would've wanted his mother there for the service, but she was adamant that she wouldn't be going. I sighed, setting the phone down on the nightstand as I layed back in bed. The king sized bed we used to share now only holds one body, not including the dogs that sleep on the end. I rolled over, staring at the empty space where Seàn should be laying, grabbing his pillow and burying my nose in it. His scent was still there, a mix of his apple shampoo and the cologne he wore. It physically hurt me not to be next to him, I needed his warmth, his voice, his love. I needed him, but this is the closest I'll get to him for a long time. Even though I considered myself agnostic, I still liked the idea of heaven, seeing loved ones that passed before you in the afterlife. And the more these strange occurrences happened regarding Seàn, the more I started believing in the afterlife. If there was even a slim chance that I would see him again, I would gladly take it. But seeing as I'm twenty-eight and in perfect health, I knew that would be a long time coming. Unless I were to somehow speed the process up, taking my own life never really appealed to me until now. But I quickly dismissed the thought, knowing how disappointed Seàn would be if I did something like that. I groaned, rolling over to grab my phone. I had at least one voicemail saved on here from a few weeks ago. I normally delete them after I listen to them but for some reason I didn't with this one. I tapped the icon, putting the phone up to my ear so I could hear his voice one more time. It was just a stupid message he left me while I was at work and he was bored at home. But in this moment, I didn't care what he was talking about, it was still his voice I was hearing.  
"Hey Pookie, I know you're working right now but I was bored and wanted to annoy you. I may have accidentally trashed the kitchen while trying out this new recipe I saw on Pinterest, apparently flambe means to douse it in booze and set it on fire. But on the bright side at least the smoke detector works! Anywho, I can't wait for you to come home so I can try something else I saw on Tumblr. Spoiler alert, you're gonna love it. I love you!"  
I must've replayed that damn message twenty times before my phone started ringing. I huffed in annoyance, I wasn't up to talk to anyone right now. I brought the phone up to my face so I could see the caller ID and nearly had a heart attack when I saw Seàn's name across the screen.    
"Seàn?" I answered hesitantly, a deep chill running down my spine from the loud static I heard on the other line. Seàn's phone was destroyed by the vehicle that hit him, so there was no way in hell this was a fluke.  
"Baby?" I spoke softly, afraid of what I might hear afterward.   
"D-on't.....St-ay.." A broken voice laced inside the static spoke, but I could only make out two words before the call disconnected. I couldn't tell if that voice was Seàn's, it was so distorted it was difficult to know for sure. I tried to call him back, but the line was disconnected and even the call log came up empty. It was as if it never happened. Don't stay? What was he trying to tell me? Did he want me to..come with him? I don't even know if I had the balls to do something like that, but if he needed me there with him, I'd happily stare down the barrel of a gun.


	6. Chapter 6

I watched as Mark cried himself to sleep again, I wanted so badly to comfort him in any way that I could. He couldn't see me, not unless I wanted him to. It was an unspoken rule not to meddle in the affairs of the living, that even a small hint of our existence could alter their lives. But I just needed him to know that I was still here, that he could talk to me and I would hear him. From where I was standing I had a perfect view of him and the dogs, it was just a large canvas that had different splashes of paint on it, but to me it was a window. A single flick of my paintbrush and I could see him or anyone else I wanted. It was apart of my own personal heaven, mostly made up of things from my old life. Our house was here, Mark's flower garden was hidden behind the house like it was when I was alive. All I had to do was paint it into existence and it was real.  
"You're meddling, ya know?" A familiar Irish accent came from behind me, it was a voice I hadn't heard in years, taken five years prior by a drunk driver. I smiled as soon as I recognized the owner, my heart lifting with joy if only for a moment.  
"I'm just watching over him Malcolm, I'm not doing any harm." His fingers brushed down my wings, playing with the whisps of brightly colored light as he stared at the canvas.  
"There's a difference between watching and meddling, and you little brother, are meddling."  
I sighed, turning to face him. He looked exactly how he did the last time I saw him. Only his face seemed perfect, like there wasn't a single wrinkle or blemish to be found. He was taller than I remembered though, with big colorful wings made of the same light mine were, extending from his back.  
"I had to make sure he was gonna be ok, that he wouldn't do anything stupid." He seemed to understand where I was coming from, Mark had a history of depression and anxiety. His episodes occurred a lot less after we started dating, but they didn't disappear all together. When they did occur, they were debilitating and left him in bed for days. I was the only one who could coax him to eat and who could pull him out of an attack no matter how severe it was. Without me here to help him, I wasn't sure what he'd do. He's never attempted suicide before, but that was when he thought he had someone to live for. Malcolm frowned, looking down at Mark's trembling frame as he fell asleep on our bed. 

"Jack, the more you interfere the worse he'll get. He needs time to heal, without you."  
I nodded my head, reluctantly agreeing with him. Maybe Mark's condition wasn't the only reason I chose to stay behind. It was for my own selfish needs as well. I couldn't let him go, I didn't want to move on.  
"You're right, I was just having trouble letting go. I wasn't exactly planning on kicking the bucket so soon, ya know?"

"Neither was I, I left behind my wife and three kids Jacky. I know how that feels to leave someone behind. But when his time comes, he'll be able to join you here where your heaven will merge with his. There's a reason you two are so close, you're soul mates."  
I smiled, feeling a little better with that knowledge in my mind. I would see Mark again, I just had to patiently wait for him. This place was truly beautiful, filled with flowers and exotic landscapes. The sky was a gorgeous shade of lilac with pink and blue brushed across the stars. It was almost perfect, It was just missing one important thing, Mark.  
"It feels like it'll be a thousand years before I can hold him again, I could hardly wait for my breakfast to cook let alone for Mark to die naturally."  
He crossed his arms, pursing his lips as he took in the scenery.  
"You're gonna have to. You can't interfere anymore Jack. You can stand here and watch over him if you wanna torment yourself, but don't talk to him and certainly don't reveal yourself. Promise me you won't interfere anymore."

"I promise Malcolm. I just miss him so much." My eyes traveled back to the canvas, the colorful swirls merging together to reveal Mark's sleeping figure. The dogs were nessled up beside him, shielding him from the horrors of this tragedy. As much as he longed to be with me, Malcom was right. Mark still had a lot of life left to live, things he was meant to do before he was allowed to part with this world and come with me. My fingertips brushed the canvas, smearing the paint until his image disappeared. Malcolm wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into one of his hugs that I missed so much.

"C'mon little brother, let's leave him be for now."


	7. Chapter 7

I walked with Malcolm through the thick  fields of wildflowers, trying to take my mind off of Mark as I concentrated on the bright colors. The flowers were one of the first things I painted when I got here, they reminded me of Mark and the garden he kept out back during the spring and summer months. I quickly learned that time doesn't move the same way here that it does on earth. Here, a thousand years is equal to one day. So naturally I have alot of time on my hands. For Mark, it had only been a few weeks since my death. I watched my own funeral, smiling at the outpouring of support from friends and the community towards my husband. But even though I stayed away, reducing the contact I had with him to practically nothing, he was still getting worse. I would watch over him from my canvas window, shedding tears with him as he sobbed. There wasn't much he was able to do for himself, he stopped eating, started drinking more. I was terrified of what he might do next. But Malcolm assured me that he would be ok, saying that his wife went through something similar after his death and eventually overcame it. I wasn't convinced though, the pattern of self destruction Mark was showing was indicative of an eventual suicide attempt. I didn't want to believe my husband would do something like that to himself, but to him it appeared he had only one option to make the pain go away. As we walked closer to my replica house, a few red flags began going off in my head. I tried to ignore them, focusing my mind on anything else but that horrible feeling in my gut. Malcolm walked inside the house, taking a seat at the kitchen table as I painted a few coffee cups into existence. The first few times I tried to create edible things, went horribly wrong. They tasted like paint and squished in my hands like clay. Eventually I figured out how to make them real, all it took was a little imagination and will power. I handed Malcolm a cup of coffee, made just the way he liked It, before fixing myself one. I sat across from him at the table Mark and I used to have meals at. Part of me selfishly wanted him to come with me, to just end the suffering and come home to me. But that was wrong of me to desire, Mark's place was on earth right now, not here.

"What's bothering you little brother?" Malcolm asked, taking a sip of his coffee. I shrugged, unable to pinpoint the cause of the strange feeling.  
"I feel like something bad is about to happen, it's making me uneasy." I muttered, swirling a spoon around the black liquid inside my cup. Malcolm raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair like he was thinking.  
"Is it Mark?" He crossed his legs, bringing his cup back up to his lips to drink. I shook my head, bouncing my leg nervously under the table like I used to when I was anxious about something.  
"Maybe I should check on him?" It was more of a statement rather than a question, I was going to do it whether he agreed with me or not.   
"If it'll make you feel better, I say do it. But don't do anything to make your presence known, things like that aren't meant to be seen by mortal eyes." He warned, rising from his seat to pat me on the shoulder. I nodded, smiling at how protective he still was over me. Malcolm's wings extended as he stepped outside, bidding me farewell as he took off into the sky. We didn't share the same heaven, but we could visit one another anytime we wanted. It was nice seeing him on a regular basis again, it could get pretty lonely here when it's just you. Even if this was heaven, I still craved social interaction. I sighed, making my way over to the canvas smeared with paint. I raised my brush up, stroking different colors across the surface until a darkened room came into view. Those red flags became more pronounced, along with the pit in my stomach. Something was wrong, very wrong. I could hear the dogs whining, scratching at the bathroom door that was closed. I peered into the canvas window a bit more, searching for Mark. Then it hit me, Mark was behind the bathroom door, doing God knows what. I didn't even think before I acted. I closed my eyes, appearing seconds later in front of the bathroom door. I kept myself hidden, walking through the door to see a horrifying sight. Mark was sitting in the bathtub, an empty bottle of pills and half a bottle of booze sitting on the floor beside him. He was still conscious, clutching a picture of us next to what I assumed was a suicide note. He was sobbing, his eyes appeared glazed over and completely hopeless. I panicked, keeping myself unseen as I turned the shower on, sending cold water over his clothed body. His eyes widened, visibly shaken by what just happened. He's been looking for me for weeks, but at Malcolms behest I stayed away.  
"S-eà-n?" He slurred, whatever he took already affecting his speech. I had to act quickly or it would be too late. I did the one thing I wasn't supposed to do, I revealed myself to him. The reaction to suddenly seeing your dead husband standing in your bathroom was exactly what I expected it to be. Endless sobbing and terrified whimpers, along with a look I could only describe as shocked. The light from my wings blinded him for a moment as I climbed into the empty bathtub, I cradled his body as I forced my fingers into his mouth. He gagged, throwing up some of the pills as the water washed the remnants down the drain.  
"Why Mark?! Why would you do this?!" I screamed, rocking his body as I gagged him again. Nothing came up this time, he was slipping away and I could feel him leaving his body. I freaked out, lifting him out of the  bathtub as I held him close to my body. He was soaking wet, gasping for air as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. I was running out of time to save him, it wasn't his time to die, not yet. I opened the door, dashing out of the house as I took off into the crisp midnight air. I held Mark tightly as I flew with everything I had to the nearest hospital. I flew into the building, laying him down on one of the unoccupied gurneys before cloaking myself again. Mark was incoherently mumbling my name, drifting away quicker than I anticipated. Thinking quickly, I messed with the intercom system, blaring an ear piercing sound that would alert people to come over to where he was. Before I knew It, Mark was surrounded by doctors and nurses who were trying to save his life. He was wheeled into the ICU, hooked up to IVs and a stomach pump to rid his body of everything I couldn't get him to throw up. I must have been next to him for hours, watching the staff work and the steady rise and fall of his chest as his vitals stabilized. He was so close to achieving his goal, so close leaving this world. But it wasn't his time, not yet at least.


	8. Chapter 8

I woke up to the sound of hospital equipment beeping, the robotic sound of my slow heartbeat rung in my ears as I looked around the room. I was laying in an uncomfortable bed, the dark room lit up in florescent lights that made the room look that much less inviting. There was a window cracked open, letting the cool winter air into the room. I didn't think the windows could open, since we were so high up and there was always a risk of a few jumpers. But as my thoughts settled on the act of suicide, I realized I was still alive. I failed. I don't remember much after I downed that bottle of Xanax with a fireball chaser, but I do remember Seàn. He was there with me, holding me in the bathtub. I remember being in his arms, smelling the familiar scent of his cologne, feeling his soft skin against mine. He was trying to save me, at least I think that's what he was doing. How else would I of ended up here? I never told anyone about my plans to kill myself, though I did tell the neighbor to check on the dogs the next morning. I feel terrible for trying to subject her to something like that. Seeing a dead man in a bathtub isn't something you'll easily forget anytime soon. But still, the need to be where Seàn is, is still prominent in my mind. I don't want to be here anymore, I don't want to suffer anymore, I'm tired of being so weak and helpless all the time. I'm so broken I can't even eat, not that I ate much to begin with. Seàn was always nagging me to eat more, but my crippling self conciousness wouldn't let me. I stared up at the white drop ceiling, wishing that I was gone from this world already. I could be with him right now, holding him, kissing him, touching him. But instead I'm here, hooked up to monitors and IV tubes that stick out of my arms. I should be dead, but I'm still here..

The door was opened but the doctor that stood in the doorway knocked anyway, extending a courtesy I didn't think I deserved. I probably messed up his evening and kept him from being with his loved ones because I chose to overdose.  
"Mr.Fischbach, you're finally awake." The doctor walked into my room, taking a seat in the plastic chair next to me.  
"How long was I out?" I asked, rubbing my tired eyes with my hands. I felt groggy, like everything was in slow motion. He pursed his lips into a hard line, taking a peek at my chart before looking back at me.  
"A few days, your blood tests came back positive for barbiturates, which would explain the patchy memory and slow heartbeat you're probably experiencing. You're lucky, a few more minutes and we wouldn't have been able to bring you back."  
"I don't feel very lucky.." I muttered under my breath, not really caring if he heard me or not.  
"I'm not going to attempt to understand why you did what you did, but I do want to offer you some help."  
Help..it's the word he used but he meant something else when he said it. He's offering me a quick fix, a band-aid to slap on my emotional wounds until I'm home and no longer a liability. I didn't want to feel angry at his lack of empathy, but I did. I wasn't about to have my pain swept under the rug by some asshole that didn't understand. My feelings matter, I matter. Or atleast I used to matter. My tone was a little harsher than I would've liked, but I needed to get my message across to him.  
"You people can't help me. You can't bring him back and you can't send me to where he is. Only I can do that, and only I know how to fix this. I'm alone, and as long as I'm still breathing I'll continue to feel this way. You shouldn't have saved me."  
I stared blankly at the wall, waiting to hear his rebuttal that I had so much to live for and how my life had meaning, but instead he decided to treat me like a patient in a psych ward. He flipped up my chart, scribbling something down before standing to his feet.  
"Then you leave me no choice, I'll have to admit you to the south wing under a twenty-four hour suicide watch."

"Do what you have to do.." At this point I didn't care. I was already gone, he just didn't know it yet. He nodded his head, walking out of my room as he talked to one of the nurses about my transfer. I sighed, pulling out my IV and detaching the monitor from the leads that were secured to my skin. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, holding onto the siderail as I stood up.   
Deep breath in, deep breath out..  
I can do this, I need to do this, for Seàn. I walked to the window, not caring about the nurse that spotted me and alerted the doctor that was standing outside my door.   
Deep breath in, deep breath out..  
I gripped the sides of the window, kicking out the screen as I was met with a burst of winter air.  
Deep breath in, deep breath out..  
I smiled, looking down at the long drop before me. There was no way I could mess this up. I'd be with him soon, and that's all that mattered to me. The nurse was reaching out for me, yelling at me to stop and come back inside. But before she was able to grab my hospital gown I stepped off of the window ledge.  
"Baby, I'm coming home." I said quietly, leaping off of the twenty story ledge to a fate I wasn't sure of. I just wanted to be with him, and that was my last thought before I hit the ground. Him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *These views portrayed in this fiction are not my own personal opinions, they're strictly for plot development. I'm sorry if I offend anyone with this chapter, but please try to remember that it's just a story.*

The fields of wildflowers swayed in the wind, creating a peaceful sound that swept over the landscape. My brush swiped a few shades of tan and brown onto a small figure from my previous life. His tiny body shuddered to life with a final stroke of my brush. I sat back on my knees, smiling at my Trico replica, I knew it wasn't the real thing, but it was still something to keep me company. Trico barked, happily jumping up to lick my face. I don't know why I didn't do this sooner, I missed him. I layed back in the bed of flowers I painted ages ago, looking up at the colorful sky as Trico wagged his tail and trotted through the field. A large pair of wings caught my attention, the owner leaning down over me with a concerned expression.   
"Mal, I was wondering when you were gonna show up. Look what I made." I sat up, pointing to the tiny dog frolicking through the flowers. He gave me a sad smile, knitting his brows together like he knew something I didn't.  
"Jacky, I need to tell you something. Come back to the house with me." He held out his hand, pulling me up to my feet before walking off towards the house. I glanced back at Trico, whistling for him to follow me as I ran toward the house. Malcolm was leaning against the wooden beam attached to the porch. I still remember the day Mark decided to surprise me by building it. It took a few days but he did it, creating a space for us to sit and watch the sun go down. He was always thoughtful like that, going out of his way to give me the things I desired. But the only thing I desired was him. Malcolm watched me as I joined him, looking out at the garden filled will lavender and tulips.  
"We're gonna go through something very hard right now, but I'm with you, you're not alone." He took my hand, keeping his eyes on me as a sad expression overtook his features. I nodded, bracing myself for whatever he was about to tell me.

"Jack, Mark's dead. He killed himself."  
Those words stunned me, bringing warm tears to the surface as the thought consumed my mind. Was I too late? I stayed until I had to leave, seeing him improve slowly in the hopes that he would be ok. Why didn't I stay longer? Why didn't I feel his distress like before? I should've been there.  
"Is that like an occupational hazard for soul mates? One's not much without the other." I joked, trying to ease the pain I felt with a little bit of dark humor. It was always my go to coaping mechanism in life, why not use it in death as well? Malcolm didn't laugh though, he just stared at me like there was more he wasn't telling me. 

"But he's ok now, because the pain is over." I tried to say, ignoring when he interjected.

"No I don't think you understand-"

"He won't cling like I did.."

"Jack, you don't understand-"

"When do I see him?" I asked, my eyes filled with hope at the prospect of seeing him again.

"Never." He whispered, squeezing my hand to make sure I was listening.

"What?"

"You'll never see him, he's a suicide, suicides go somewhere else." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, the news of Mark's death was hard enough, but now he's throwing this at me as well?

"What are you punishing him for? He's suffered enough!"

"No, there's no judges or crimes here, everyone's equal. It's just reality and the way things work."

"And the reality is that suicides go to hell?! There's no judgement in that?!" I shoved him, my anger and fear consuming me as the reality of what he was saying penetrated my core. Malcolm furrowed his brows, taking a stern tone with me like he used to when I was in trouble. 

"You can either hide from this or you can understand it. What you call hell is for those that don't know they're dead, they can't realize what they've done or what's happened to them. They're too self absorbed in life that they've built this world around them-"

"Too self absorbed?! That  doesn't apply to Mark!" I dropped to my knees, feeling myself begin to panic. Mark was all alone in a place created for the worst offenders on earth. He didn't belong there, he belonged with me. Malcolm knelt down beside me, placing his hand on my shoulder as he lifted up my chin.

"No it doesn't. No, suicides are different. Suicides don't go to hell because they're immoral or selfish, they go for a very different reason. Each of us has an instinct, that there's a natural order to our journey, and Mark has violated that. He won't face it, he won't realize or accept what he's done. And he will spend eternity playing that out."

"You're still saying he's in hell.." I muttered, trying to wrap my brain around this horrible situation. He needed me and I failed him. Malcolm brushed a few of my tears away, comforting me the best way he could.

"Everybody's hell is different, it's not all fire and pain. There are different layers, punishments for crimes committed here on earth."

"Is there a way I can save him?" I would go to hell and back for Mark, I've said that to him on multiple occasions during our time together. I didn't care what it might cost me, Mark was still my husband and I couldn't just leave him there. But Malcolm didn't give me the response I was looking for. He sighed, pulling me into a hug that I desperately needed.

"No. Mark would have to come to the realization that he's dead, and you would lose your mind before that ever happened."  
I pulled away from him, sitting on the deck as Trico trotted up to me. He scooted into my lap, nuzzling his face into my neck like he knew I was hurting. My mind was already made up, I was going to do whatever it took to bring him back.

"Mal, I have to try. I have to bring him home."


	10. Chapter 10

Malcolm pursed his lips together, staring down at me like I was a lost child. In a way I guess I was, without Mark I felt lost. This place, my version of heaven, isn't complete without him.  
"Jacky, even if you were able to convince him, there's no way you'd be able to find him in time. Hell is a very big and dangerous place. You're not meant to be there."

"And Mark is?! Mal, you can't sit there and tell me that if this was your wife, you wouldn't at least try. Mark is everything to me. I left him alone, I failed him.."  
Malcolm sighed, wrapping his arm around me in a comforting way. This man was more of a father to me than my own dad was. I often wondered why I never saw my father in my version of heaven. He died about ten years back of Parkinson's disease, but I haven't really been in touch with him since he left my Ma when I was six. Malcolm stepped in when he stepped out, helping Ma raise me and providing a strong male role model in my life. So it's no wonder I haven't seen my dad. He's just as distant in death as he was in life.  
"That wasn't your fault, you couldn't control the person behind the wheel of that car. Mark made his choice the moment he stepped off of that ledge." Malcolm articulated, and at that moment I felt the full brunt of Mark's death hit me like a sock full of batteries.  
"He jumped? I-I thought.."

"What? That you didn't make it in time? I knew what you were doing Jack, and because you didn't listen to me, Mark is dead."  
The air hung with a thick sense of guilt that accompanied Malcolm's accusing words. I didn't mean any harm, I just wanted Mark to live a full life. I didn't want to reveal myself, make him hurt so much that he jumped from his hospital window. But Mal was right. This was my fault.

"I'm sorry.." I whispered, leaning into his side. He pursed his lips, having some sort of internal dialogue with himself. Malcolm let me go, beginning to walk towards the field of painted flowers that made up the majority of my heaven.

"C'mon little brother." He motioned, smiling a little.

"Where are we going?" I asked, following him with an odd sense of curiosity. The flowers were beginning to melt into pools of wet paint, squishing beneath my feet as the environment began to warp. Streams of mixed paint ran down from the sky, almost like when you throw a bucket of water on a fresh painting.

"If we're going into the pits of hell, we'll need a guide." Mal answered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The paint under our feet hardened, crumbling into a sand like surface of multicolored streaks, and there before us was a river of shimmering water. It was filled with reds and pinks, swirling and blending with other vibrant shades of the rainbow.  
A boat was off in the distance, small in size with a single figure piloting against the calm waves of color.

"A guide? And who's that?" I asked quietly, too taken aback by the changing scenery to focus on Mal, who was stepping into the water.

"Charon, the ferryman, will get us across the river. Our guide will be there waiting for us on the other side." Malcolm gazed up at the sky, thick and heavy clouds rolling in that looked like a storm was coming. Mark and I used to love storms when we were alive. It was always such a bonding experience, sitting on the porch as the rain came down in heavy drops. The windchimes played a gentle tune as the warm wind blew and the thunder boomed from above. Storms were a time of relaxation, a common place for Mark and I to enjoy with each other. I can still hear the sounds of the rain hitting the windows as we made love. But now, those storm clouds just reflected my own inner turmoil.

As the boat came close to the shore I could see the figure piloting it a little better. It wasn't at all what I was expecting. Charon was a ghastly amalgamation of thick rope-like branches that fixed him to the bow of the boat. A large ore rested in his hands, paddling against the water slowly. Mal was wading into the river, turning his head when he didn't see me behind him.  
"C'mon Jacky! Time's a wastin!" He called, snapping me out of my thoughts. Charon couldn't come too far towards the shore or he'd run the risk of running aground. Malcolm was swimming towards him, but his clothing remained dry and untouched. I followed after him, Mark weighing heavily on my mind as I stepped into the swirl of colors.

Even though the water covered my skin, coolly running over my body, my clothing remained dry. I swam towards the boat, watching as Malcolm reached up and pulled himself up into the boat. My brother stuck out his hand, helping me inside with a little effort. I fell into the wooden boat with a harsh thud, panting from the effort of swimming. It seems I'm just as out of shape as I remembered. Malcolm chuckled, tossing a coin towards the ferryman as payment.

"Take us to Hell, Charon." Mal said, and the entity nodded, beginning to steer the boat down stream, where the dark storm clouds gathered.

 


End file.
